Surprise!
by Lady Emzebel
Summary: He supposed that he could complain about the lack of the spoken "Happy Birthday" he really wanted from his big brother, but then nobody had ever decked an old lady to get him the last maple glaze donut from Timmy Hoes before. Fricken' sweet, eh.


Title: Surprise!

Rating: T

Pairing: Canada/America bromance

Warnings: Swearing. BEWBS!

A/N: So I checked Fanfiction and I saw there were fewer Happy Birthday Matthew fics than I thought there'd be so I decided to make a contribution. May I just say that I am bemused as to why everyone's made Matthew's birthday fics so short...and so angsty! It can be fun! Just you see!

...All right so it's a bit late. Like...a day. Well you know what? Suck my finger.

Just kidding. I love you reader. Enjoy!

* * *

There had to be a reason the anthropomorphic personification of Canada woke up that morning with an agonizing headache, leaden stomach, and the god-awful taste of tonsil scum on his taste buds. Oh yeah. He was hung over.

_But why am I hung over, eh?_

Canada nuzzled the side of his face further into his drool-speckled pillow and attempted to think past the pounding in his skull, his arm flung over his eyes in an effort to block out the meagre (but no less blinding) sunlight filtering through his bedroom blinds.

"What day is it?" He mumbled to no one in particular.

"Eh?" asked the polar bear-shaped lump a few inches from his head.

"Cana-!...oh wait, wrong question. Sorry Kumajiko."

The task of dragging himself out of bed and into the bathroom was almost too arduous to bother with but Matthew did it anyway. He'd be damned if he was going downstairs without knowing for sure he didn't have any ridiculous Sharpie pictures anywhere on his anatomy, courtesy of Prussia or his brother.

They certainly weren't above such a prank.

The mirror blessedly revealed no works of crude body anywhere on his person, though Matthew did find out he was in possession of two bloodshot eyes, mussed up hair and green-tinged skin. He promptly filled the sink with lukewarm water and dunked his face in it.

"Brbghebrhspheeerpswb," the sink echoed, water bubbling as Matthew exhaled noisily underwater.

"Who?" Kuma padded into the bathroom after his master, just as the nation drew his head back out of the water and gave it a vaguely dog-like shake.

"Canada. Just...just Canada."

The stairs didn't pose too much of a problem for the still dizzy Matthew but his forward momentum and lack of sure footing did send him crashing through the wall at the bottom .

"Oof!" Matthew lay winded amongst pieces of wood frame and plaster and electrical wiring, staring up at the ceiling and wondering what on earth he'd been smoking when he'd purchased that particular light fixture for his living room. Huh, on a completely unrelated note, lucky he'd fallen somewhat sideways or he'd have crushed Kuma, cradled in his arms.

"Hey, there you are!"

"Wuh?"

Suddenly, Matthew found himself on his feet again, pulled into a rib-creaking hug by his brother, and very aware of the menacing growls emitting from his bear.

"Ow!" America leapt backwards and put his finger in his mouth. "The little bugger bit me!"

"Bugger?" Matthew smirked, gently shooing Kuma into the kitchen. "You've been hanging around Arthur for too long eh?"

"S-shut up. It's a good word is all!"

"...uh huh. What are you doing in my house anyway?"

"Wuh? Oh yeah, get your clothes on. We're going to get breakfast and hang out today yeah?"

"Little spontaneous, isn't it?"

Alfred just laughed and pushed his brother back through the new hole in the wall and towards the stairs.

"Now look who's been hanging around Iggy too much. Where's the fun in planning life Mattie? You gotta do some things outta the blue or things get real old real fast, know what I mean?"

Sigh.

"Yes Al. Whatever you say."

-X3-

"Come on Mattie! I'm hungry!"

"Gimme a sec would you, you impatient jackass!" Matthew hollered as he tugged on a pair of red shorts and a white maple-leaf print T-shirt. "What day is it, by the way?"

"Huh?"

"What day is it?"

"Oh right, it's July the first."

"..."

There was a thoughtful pause on Alfred's behalf as Matthew made his way, red-faced and dejected, down the stairs.

" Y'know it's funny; I coulda sworn there was some kind of holiday today. But I dunno what. Ah well. Come on. Foooood!"

-X3-

"So whaddaya want?"

Matthew eyed his brother with some trepidation. They were currently parked outside a Tim Hortons, and the nation of Canada wasn't entirely sure his brother was all there in his right mind. He reached over and felt Alfred's forehead with his hand.

"Hey Al...do you have a fever?"

"No...why?"

"Because we're not parked outside McDonalds. We always get McDonalds when we go out together..."

America just shrugged and gave his trademark grin.

"Well, time for a change then baby bro...unless you _want_ McDonalds?"

"No no, Timmy Hoes is fine. Thank you."

"Cool. Then whaddaya want? My treat."

Matthew's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"What? You paid last time, right? I'm buying today. Come on, whatever you want. Spoil yourself."

"...medium coffee, black, two sugars, and a maple glaze donut please."

"Alrighty. Back in a tick."

-X3-

"_Alfred_, it is my birthday."

...

"Alfred, it_ is_ my birthday."

...

"Al...it's _my_ birthday."

...

"My _birthday_, Al."

...

And once you start rehearsing to yourself in the rear-view mirror of a car the lecture you were going to give your older brother once he got back from buying you breakfast, you know there is no way to maintain your dignity after that.

"Oh god, I'm so pathetic," Matthew whimpered, putting his head in his hands. He was profoundly grateful he'd decided to leave Kuma behind at home in front of the TV with a bowl of his favourite kibble and maple syrup; he didn't think he'd be able to handle another "who?" right now.

At least the date explained his drinking binge the night before. Over the last few decades it had become tradition for him to drink himself almost into a coma the day before his birthday, just because it helped drown the crippling depression he felt whenever people forgot the anniversary of his independence.

The plan was that he'd drink so much his alcohol-induced sleep would last all day July the first, thus allowing himself to ignore the fact that there was no one with him to celebrate, and it usually worked. Too bad it wasn't foolproof; last year he'd been woken up around midday by a call from the stodgy old geezer, Mr. Barnes, next door who'd wondered if he'd like to have a drink with him sometime next week (Canada has declined, politely and with many sincere apologies) and this year Matthew had risen practically at the crack of nine am (according to Al, anyway) for whatever ungodly reason.

No, not very foolproof at all.

And so here he was, trapped in his brother's cherry-red 1960 Chevrolet Corvette Convertible, outside Timmy Hoes, about to spend the day traipsing around his house (that is, the whole damn country of Canada) as they were wont to do whenever Alfred came to visit.

And Al didn't even know it was his birthday...oh the irony...

"Start the car, Mattie!"

The nation inside the car startled and jerked his knee up in an automatic defensive pose, slamming it quite painfully under the dashboard. Eyes wide and watering, he rolled down the window and stuck his head out, casting around for the one who'd screamed his name quite audibly through the car windows. Within moments he spotted his brother across the parking lot, sprinting towards the corvette with a very big, very muscly, very homicidal-looking man hot on his heels. Holy shit, that guy could have taken on Ivan Braginsky and come away smiling.

"Start the caaaaaaaar!"

Instinctively, Matthew lunged across the gear stick, still partially trapped in seat by his damn belt, and wrenched the key (thank god Al had had the presence of mind to leave it there so Matt could have air conditioning) in the ignition, starting the car up with a roar. He fumbled with his belt, and just managed to leap behind the wheel when Alfred dived headfirst into the passenger seat.

"Drive!"

The tires screamed as Matthew floored the gas pedal and shot out of the parking space just before Alfred's pursuer swung down into the now empty space with a crow bar, cursing violently when he missed.

"Whoooooooo!" Alfred screamed out of the window in euphoric triumph as his younger brother did everything in his power to keep from crashing America's baby into another car as they gunned it out of the parking lot.

-X3-

Only when they were a good five kilometres away from that particular Tim Hortons, the man out of sight and mind, did Matthew's heart calm down and he started to breathe normally again. Then he sat up straight in his seat, fastened his belt, and smacked his brother upside the head.

"Ow!"

"What the hell did you do Al?"

Alfred had the grace to look sheepish (for once) and gave the signature toothy smile that meant he was in for a world of hurt when Mattie discovered what he'd just done.

"I...er...I kinda stole this old woman's dentures and bit her with them because she tried to steal the last maple glaze when I clearly got in line first."

"You did what?"

"Hey, you wanted a maple glaze so I got you a maple glaze! It's not my fault her grandson is a psychotic biker or somthin'."

"You got me a donut by assaulting a tiny defenceless old woman! And one of mine no less!"

"Hey, the little old ladies at your place are scary. They beat you with their hand bags man!...now do you want your donut or what?"

They pulled over, and Matthew grudgingly accepted the bag, already spotted slightly with grease and icing. He took a bite of his sugary treat, listening to Al scarf down several breakfast sandwiches beside him, and hid a secretive smile behind the donut.

He'd never have anyone go so far as to beat up an old lady and flee a crazed body-builder to bring him Timmy Hoes before.

-X3-

Despite the slightly hectic start to the day, the rest of the morning went quite smoothly. Alfred suggested they go swimming, and Matthew agreed wholeheartedly, momentarily forgetting he had neither a towel nor swimming trunks. Then his brother had produced both for him in the changing room and they'd spent about ten minutes flicking each other with towels before finally showering and making their way to the outdoor pool.

It had been a while since the Canadian had gone swimming, despite the fact he was renowned for his extortionate number of lakes. Slipping into the mild turquoise water on this beautiful summery day was nothing short of heavenly, and Matthew inwardly praised Alfred's uncharacteristic insight.

"Raaaaawr! Shark attack! RAWR!"

Matthew pretended to wail like a victim as his brother jumped on him from behind, and wrestled him into the shallow water, the both of them splashing and squealing all the while.

"Rawr! Om nom nom nom!"

"Ahhh, on no! I's being eated! Ahhh!"

"Sirs! Excuse me, sirs!"

At the sound of a shrill whistle the brothers halted, turning to face the side of the pool where an outrageously good-looking life guard stood, an irate expression souring her pretty face. Matthew's stomach clenched pleasantly and he felt his nipples start to tingle; beside him he heard Alfred mutter something that sounded distinctly like "fap fap fap" under his breath. Ooh, damn. It was not normal to be turned on by your own citizens, the children of the nation. Even if they _were_ tanned, freckled and wearing a scarlet string bikini under a pair of translucent board shorts...

"There is to be no rough-housing in the kiddie pool! If I have to tell you again, you'll both be kicked out, alright?"

Both boys flushed and nodded, arousal washed away by the voice reminiscent of their childhood days with Arthur, looking for all the world like two small children scolded by their mother.

"Yes ma'am. We're sorry, eh."

"We won't do it again."

The life guard peered at them sternly for a moment more before she nodded and left.

Matthew and Alfred exchanged sideways glances at one another through their eyelashes and giggled naughtily. Then they skipped over to the bigger pool, jumped in and resumed play-fighting there.

"Rawr! I'm Arthur's eyebrows coming to get you!"

"KYAAAAH! MATTIE! THOSE THINGS ARE WAY SCARIER THAN A SHARK! GET AWAY FROM ME! AHHH!"

-X3-

After swimming, the boys were starving and Matthew suggested McDonalds, knowing his brother got cranky from burger withdrawal after a while. They pulled up at a drive through and ordered eight big Macs to go with fries and two super sized drinks, one coke and one root beer.

"Thank you Mattie," Alfred moaned as he ravished his second big Mac. "I thought I was gonna diiie."

"...you do know the special sauce isn't the elixir of life eh? It's only Thousand Island dressing."

Alfred looked as if his innocence had just been forcibly shattered with a sledgehammer, and it left Mattie scrambling for safe ground. God forbid should his brother begin crying; it would bring England in full over-protective daddy mode down on his ass faster than a vulture on a piece of deader-than-dead road kill.

"Sniff...sniffle..."

"I'm sorry Al. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry! I didn't mean it. Hahaha. Thousand Island dressing. Haha. What a joke eh? McFlurry! You want a McFlurry, Al? I WILL GET YOU A BIG ASS MCFLURRY! DONOTCRYYY!"

-X3-

Next on the agenda was London Drugs. Alfred tried to insist on Walmart, but then Matthew put on his scary face and reached menacingly behind his back for that horrifyingly bloody hockey stick that would always materialise when the younger nation felt like being violent.

Or persuasive. Either way.

They bought tonnes and tonnes of candy. Literally filling two plastic bags to the brim with skittles ("Taste the fricken' rainbow!" both boys screamed as they bolted out of the store, pelting people with the tiny multicoloured sweets as they went), smarties, gummy bears, gummy worms, Reeses peanut butter cups...the whole lot.

They stuffed the candy inside Matthew's sweater and Alfred's bomber jacket; they looked rather pregnant and garnered many girlish giggles and odd stares as they casually sauntered into the movie theatre, Al's second suggestion of the day.

"Al, could you possibly _not _hum the Mission Impossible theme while we're _trying_ to look inconspicuous?"

"I can't help in Mattie. I feel so _badass_ in these shades."

Matthew sighed.

"We are so gonna get caught and kicked out."

"Chillax Mattie. If they find the candy on you we blame the creepy looking guy over by the hotdog stand, kay? Anyone asks, we say he forced it on us and told us to go through or he'd touch us in the danger zone."

"Al, that Munchausen by proxy!"

"It's wha?"

"Oh...no wait. Never mind...that's when you pretend your kid is sick for attention. My bad."

"...okay?"

Matthew cleared his throat awkwardly, hefted his candy belly (which sent a foursome of teenage girls nearby to the floor with hysterical laughter), and shifted from foot to foot.

"So what do want to watch eh?"

"Hmmm...I've been kinda looking forward to Eclipse...Mattie...Mattie please don't look at me like you want to hack out my entrails with a kitchen knife...MATTIE PUT AWAY THE HOCKEY STICK."

"Do. NOT. Mention. That. . Filmed In. MY. House." Matthew spat through gritted teeth, each word punctuated by an ominous crunch as several hard candies met their untimely end in the Canadian's clenched fists.

"Toy Story," Alfred whimpered, edging towards the safety of the ticket booth. "Can't go wrong with Pixar huh?"

"...Toy Story it is."

-X3-

Snorting and sniggering, Matthew and Alfred exploded out through the theatre doors in a shower of popcorn and malteasers. High on way too much sugar and the two giant cream sodas they'd relented to purchasing at the ruinously high-priced concession stands, they found anything and everything funny.

"Heeeey, I like your _ass_-cot. It's like so totally cute," Matthew spluttered as his brother pretended to act outrageously camp.

"Ooooh, would you like to touch my _ass_-cot, darling?"

"I would love to touch your _ass_-cot baby...do you wanna play with my toys?"

"Ooooh, only if they're multiplayer!"

And then Alfred tripped over a discarded popcorn bucket and took Matthew down with him. Even then, while rolling around on the sticky floor they found everything hysterical, and they laughed until their lungs hurt and the girl at the ticket booth called security to have them bodily removed from the premises.

Many a movie-goer found the scene in the theatre lobby a sight far more amusing than the films they had paid to see; several attempted to ask for refunds while others simply pulled up chairs and purchased more popcorn to munch on as they watched uniformed employees chasing after two really fit twins on a sugar high.

-X3-

It was nearing four pm by the time the boys eventually got in the car and started the journey back to Matthew's house. They'd stopped off at the nearest play park for an hour after having escaped the cinema and had taken turns pushing each other on the roundabout until they were almost puking rainbows.

"Been there, done that, messed around, I'm havin' fun don't put me down, I'll never let you sweep me off my feet!"

Now they were cruising around Toronto with La Roux blasting on the stereo, and they were caterwauling along in harmony as Alfred attempted to navigate what he thought was his younger brother's capital city.

"This time baby, I'll be bulletproooof! This time baby, I'll be bulletprooooof!"

"Damn it, Matt, where the hell is your house?"

"Next right here you moron. Look, I've had fun today. We should definitely hang out like this again eh?"

"Oh totally. You know it's just a shame we couldn't stay out longer."

"Why couldn't we anyway? I have pancake stuff at my house. We can play Halo or something."

"I'd love to Mattie but I have plans. Busy bee y'know. What with my birthday coming up." Alfred winked at his brother, taking one hand off the wheel to pinch Matthew's cheek, oblivious to the younger nation's sudden lack of good spirits.

They pulled up next to a beat up old truck at a set of stoplights, and Matthew let himself slump dejectedly in his seat as his eyes wandered over to the driver in the car beside them...who looked...remarkably familiar. Big...well-muscled...positively psychotic...glaring at Matthew like he wanted to kill him...

The Canadian lurched almost into his brother's lap and screeched as the other driver wound down his window and stuck his head out.

"Oi! I'm gonna kill you boys for messin' with ma grandma!"

"DRIVE ALFRED! FOR THE LOVE OF HOLY FUCKING MAPLE, DRIVE LIKE THE WIND!"

"IT'S STILL A RED LIGHT MATTIE!"

Big scary psycho man was starting to fumble with his seat belt with one hand and reach into his passenger seat with the other. Matthew didn't want to know what the hell he was reaching for and luckily he never had the chance to find out because then the light turned green and Alfred burned rubber for the next three miles.

-X3-

Alfred dropped him off in front of his house (yes, his _house_ house), grabbing him around the shoulders and pulling him in for a great noisy wet kiss on the cheek before kicking him out of the corvette and speeding off.

And Matthew was left feeling profoundly miserable on his own doorstep. He couldn't deny that today had been one of the best he'd ever had spending time with his brother, but at the end of the day, Alfred had forgotten to give Matthew the only thing he really ever wanted: A "Happy Birthday". How on earth could he forgot that today was his own birthday?

Oh yeah. Alfred drove it right out of his mind by almost getting them killed via pissed off trucker dude.

The Canadian sighed. Ah well, he could always go out and watch the fireworks with Kuma, and then find a party to swing by with his citizens. Even though nobody attending knew exactly who he was, the hosts were more than happy to let the polite, soft-spoken man join their festivities so long as he helped with the dishes afterwards.

Fumbling with the keys in his shorts, Matthew pulled them out and opened his front door. Thankfully it was locked. The last time Alfred dragged him out of the house, they'd returned only to find the door wide open and a lava lamp left on his welcome mat.

He crossed over the threashold, the door swinging shut behind him, and shuffled down the hall onhis way to the kitchen.

"Kumarino, I'm home!"

There was a muffled "who?" from the living room and Matthew sighed. He passed the hole he'd made in the wall and frowned, seeing that it had been fixed and needed only a lick of paint before it was as good as new.

_Did Alfred do that when I was upstairs changing?_

He passed into the living room and only had time to register the balloons and streamers before...

"SURPRISE!"

The shout almost blew Matthew's eardrums and he was left reeling as someone glomped him violently from behind at the same time the Netherlands and Prussia dived from their hiding places behind the Chesterfield and tackled him to the floor, smothering his cheeks with plenty of European-specialty kisses.

"Happy fucking Birthday Mattie!" hollered a very Alfred-sounding voice from underneath Matthew, though it wasn't like the Canadian could get up and check what with the two other fairly heavy nations pinning him to the floor as they were. And odd soundtrack played in the background and he wondered why he hadn't heard it before.

"The Brits have got the monarchy, the U.S has the money, but I know that you wanna be Canadian!"

"What is that music?"

"You're kidding me Birdie! That's only Gilbert's Awesome Compilation Tape of Awesome Canadian Awesomeness! Happy Birthday!"

"_Ik hou van je Mattie_! Let us make babies together, _mijn kleine tulp_!"

"...holy shit Lars, did you get high when I wasn't paying attention?"

"Nope. I'm just giving Mattie some well-deserved affection."

"Well you can forget about the baby lark. The only one who's having his kids is me,_ dummkopf_. No one else is awesome enough."

"Oi! Neither of you are knocking up my baby brother unless I say so. So back off!"

"Matthew!" came a rather feminine squeal from somewhere around the kitchen area, effectively cutting off any further attempts at prolonging the subject. Lars' eyes brightened, Gilbert grinned like a lecher, and if the uncomfortable bulge pressing against the back of Matthew's thigh was any evidence, Alfred was rather pleased at the sound of this newcomer too.

"Yaaay! It's Ukraine and her magnificent tits!"

"Alfred!" Matthew scolded, but even he couldn't stop his inane beam as the sound of bouncing breasts preceded Katyusha before she herself bounded into the room and quickly made herself an addition to the growing dog pile on the living room floor.

"Hallelujah," Lars whimpered in ecstasy as his head was half swallowed by Katyusha's generous bosom.

"Happy Birthday Matthew! Oh am I so happy you're here. Come on, everyone's waiting for you in the back yard!"

"W-what? Everyone? What do you mean?"

"The nations, they're all outside waiting for you. This is your birthday party, silly."

She leaned forward, further engulfing Lars within her cleavage (lucky bastard) and kissed the tip of Matthew's nose.

"It's a barbecue Mattie," the Alfred-shaped lump beneath him explained. "We're also gonna have a fire pit; lotsa marshmallows and wieners. Cool huh? We have firefork for after too!"

"Your papa and England, they're both here," Katyusha said, smiling. "England brought his brothers too, so uncles Ireland, Scotland, Wales and aunty Northern Ireland are all here. Seychelles, Lithuania, he brought Poland, and Estonia and little brother Russia and Cuba they're here. China and Taiwan and Japan and South Korea came with Hong Kong; you can celebrate a double birthday! Isn't that great? Er...I think that's it."

"Australia," Gilbert added as he enviously glared at Lars, still ears deep in breast meat.

"Oh yes, Australia's flight was delayed so he'll be arriving in an hour. Alfred is going to pick him up, yes?"

"Yes ma'am."

Matthew's head was spinning and he blinked rapidly to hold back tears of confusion.

"B-but...but I thought everyone forgot my birthday..."

"Psh. As if," was Lars' mumbled reply.

"Yeah, like anyone's gonna forget you for a while after those awesome Olympics, Mattie."

"You...you guys!" Matthew sniffled, an ear splitting grin beginning to take over his face. Then Alfred groaned from beneath him.

"Come on then, let's get out of this fuckin' tangle of limbs before Russia and Cuba decide to join in. I don't think I can take much more weight on my spleen."

"Spleens?" The piled-up nations stiffened as the eerie voice floated in from the kitchen. "We are compressing spleens? How delightful da?"

"Off!"

Matthew just smiled, tears of joy leaking out from under his eyelids as his fellow nations pulled him upright and led him outside to join his party.

* * *

Don't ask me why I think Matthew gets tingly nipples when he's aroused. I have no fricken' clue where that came from. OTL

Why yes, I did just make a dog pile with nearly all my favourite Canada pairings. Your point?


End file.
